Better than the Dursleys
by FancifulRivers
Summary: Harry never has to go back. He doesn't know how he feels about Snape being his guardian, but...anything is better, right?


**Author's Note: I do not and never will own HP.**

 **Also have a warning for child abuse/child neglect mentioned in this.**

It's better than the Dursleys.

That's your mantra the first summer you stay in the Potion professor's quarters at Hogwarts, instead of sweating and slaving for Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. You told Professor Snape (quite fervently, he would add) that _anything_ was better than the Dursleys, and he's taken you at your word.

And it's not that he's _mean_ or anything. You've got your own room, right next to his, and while it's a bit small and cramped, it's still _yours_. He still let you put up the Quidditch poster Ron sent you and let you do the wallpaper Gryffindor gold and red (which you like, even if it is too gaudy for you, it makes you feel like you have somewhere else to belong). There are clothes he bought for you hanging in the wardrobe and even a few toys, like the stuffed wolf you found at a Muggle toy store. You couldn't hide your look of longing fast enough, so he bought it, and you babbled thanks at him until he told you to be quiet. But there was a smile in his voice when he said it.

You've got rules and chores, but they are _nothing_ like the Dursleys. He actually splutters and looks a bit appalled when you let that slip. Apparently, even strict old Snape considers having to keep your room straight and clearing off the table after dinner and helping him straighten up once a week more than enough for an eleven-going-on-twelve-year-old boy. You have to do your summer homework early, too, but you don't mind, because you can spread out all your books on the kitchen table and if you spill ink on your parchment, Snape knows a spell to fix that. He tells you that he might teach it to you, if you actually pay attention, and you nod so eagerly, it hurts your neck a little.

The much-touted rules aren't bad, either. Lights out by ten. You must eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner (and that's a shock now). Snacks are allowed. There are guidelines about eating too much sugar, but you don't mind those. You've learned the hard way this past year what happens when you do. It tends to hurt your teeth and make your stomach feel wibbly. You're not allowed to fly unless there's an adult to watch you, and you have to work on your schoolwork first. You're not allowed in his lab or his bedroom unless absolutely necessary.

You're allowed to wake him with nightmares. You're allowed to cry. You're allowed to take seconds and you're allowed to look him in the eyes if you want to. (You don't often want to, and more often than not, your gaze drops guiltily to the floor, but that isn't important.) You're allowed to tell him when you're hurt or bleeding, and you're entitled to proper medical care.

He fixed your glasses the day after the train left- took you to a magical optometrist and got you fitted with brand new ones. You expected him to spring for square frames or anything that wouldn't remind him of your father (you know he hates your father). He keeps the style, though. They're thinner than you're used to, but they still remind you of your dad's. It makes your stomach feel kind of warm and fuzzy for hours after.

He's the only one who's ever believed you about the Dursleys. He found you crying your eyes out just before you had to get on the train, because you tried to tell the Headmaster and he wouldn't listen. You let Snape take one peek inside your mind and suddenly his eyes were doing that glittery, flinty thing that you've noticed herald a particularly furious mood, and he marched you up to the Headmaster's office before telling him quite firmly that you were never going back and that a rubbish bin would have been a better home for you than the Dursleys' tender care. You've never seen Dumbledore look so surprised before. You've never seen someone stand up for you before.

He took you back to his quarters after collecting your things (and letting you tell Ron and Hermione that plans had changed) and then sat you down on the sofa to tell you that nothing they had done was your fault and that if you wanted, he could be your guardian instead. You took less than a minute to say yes.

Anything is better than the Dursleys, you chant in your head, but really-

This is a surprisingly good anything.


End file.
